VANGUARD(81)

Fury danced in his eyes for a moment. “Yes, like that. A decision that I freely admit was wrong, and for which I have apologized profusely.” She flushed and looked away, knowing he was right.

“I am an intelligent human being, Sophie. Just as intelligent as you. I am also a proud, difficult man, but I am not without reason, nor am I a child. More importantly, I am not your possession. Which is how I feel at this time.” His calm frightened her far more than his anger.

“I would like time to myself.” He picked up his knapsack and gestured her back down when she rose. “Please take this opportunity to think about what I am to you. At this time tomorrow, we will be back in America, starting a new life. I had thought we would do that together, but perhaps you have other plans.” She sank back down into her chair, stunned. “I will see you on the plane.”

Michael started to leave, then looked back. “For your information, I am fully media trained.” Then he was gone.





-





They had six hours between flights. She spent it sitting numbly in the lounge.

What had just happened?

It was the Nariovsky anger, she decided. Michael having a fit of temper. He’d done it a million times over any number of things. He would sulk, then return with an apology, as usual. She sat there for a while longer, coffee growing cold before her.

Why didn’t I invite him to that meeting?

At the time, it had seemed like the right thing to do. Michael had been through a lot. He didn’t need any more pressure. He needed to relax and have time to himself, not wrangle with the executive committee about media strategy.

And it sure is easier to get things done without him arguing all the time.

Well, it was easier to get things done without him. He argued a lot. In the end, they would have almost certainly come to the same conclusion if he’d been involved. It just would have taken longer.

So why exclude him?

It was easier. Since she knew him so well, she could develop acceptable solutions for him. She knew what was best for him. Even more so than Michael himself.

“Shit,” she said aloud. A man sitting nearby looked at her out of the corner of his eye, then went back to his newspaper.

This wasn’t just their old destructive pattern – his temper and her stubbornness. This was her being a control freak at Michael’s expense. Just like him, she had been profoundly affected by the last six months of trauma. His legacy might be impulse issues, but hers was pure control.

The man with the newspaper watched her as she cried.





-





Michael delayed boarding the flight. They had first class seats; there was no rush. He wanted to stretch his legs fully before boarding. As if walking around the airport for five hours did not sufficiently ensure all the kinks were worked out. You are nervous, he admitted to himself.

What if she does not board the plane?

He knew that was irrational, but the thought preyed on him. His temper ran hot, flaring up violently and subsiding just as quickly. But, when crossed, Sophie held a grudge like no one else he knew. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that she would refuse to take a flight with him after their confrontation.

Yes, she should have invited him to the meeting, or at least consulted him afterward. But his reaction to her error in judgment had been extreme. He should have thought it through a little more before speaking his mind and then storming away. He was, Michael realized uneasily, having more trouble than usual governing his passions – both positive and negative.

He felt his face flush at the thought of what had happened in their room last night. The inactivity of his recovery at base camp had become irksome, and he had had nothing to do that evening other than ache for Sophie. When she’d walked through the door, he’d been deliberately provocative, rolling over to show her how much he’d missed her those last hours.

The feel of her mouth around him, looking down to see her pleasuring him, her tongue finding all his sensitive spots with wicked accuracy…he’d come in less than a minute like a sixteen year old getting his first blowjob, biting back a shout. And then had spent much of the night making love to her, fiercely and possessively. His body was pleasantly sore today as a result.

If she’d brought up work at any point, he would have cut off the conversation as quickly and erotically as possible. He could barely remember his own name when he was buried inside Sophie, let alone remember to follow up on something work related. How fair was it that he had expected her to feel any differently?